


dreaming and dreading it

by bazpitch



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: :~), Dreaming, Fifth Year, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Masturbation, Smut, but anyways!, it's a bit short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 19:43:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7727419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bazpitch/pseuds/bazpitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>baz has a dream about simon during their fifth year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	dreaming and dreading it

I look at him, counting every mole and freckle as I always do. He's staring back at me, wide-eyed and aching. His mouth is slightly open and I listen to how Simon’s breathing grows into a crescendo, louder and quicker as I move against him, slowly. 

“Baz, please.” Simon cries.

A silent moan escapes my mouth at hearing him beg for me. I’ve wanted this for so, so long; him beneath me, all bothered and mine, mine. I wrap my hand around his cock, finally, and his eyes shut immediately.

“Open your eyes.”

I want him to look at me, bent over him on my knees, as I pump his cock upwards and down again. I lift my other hand to his hair and pull roughly, running my tongue over his raw, soft lips and neck. I feel overwhelmed, almost, by all the parts of him that I had never seen or gotten to touch.

I start going faster, then, and I just watch him. He lifts his hand, which had been pulling at my sheets, to his face and runs it over his bottom lip and neck, right where I had been kissing him. The other one is grabbing at his long, curled hair like I had also been, making him arch his back into me. 

“Fucking hell, Snow, what are you doing?” I groan.

I almost stop for a second, mesmerized by the scene before me. He looks beautiful, shades of gold and pink adorning his skin like a sky. I went slower, now. I could tell that he didn't like that by his soft whines, already close to coming, but I didn't care. I find myself mimicking his actions, then, running the hand that isn't on his cock up the back of my neck and through my black hair, which had grown to quite an impressive length over the course of almost five years at Watford. After a minute, I pick up the pace again; ready to see him unravel under me, like I've been wanting to for so, so long.

"Fuck,"

I kiss him then, not letting him finish his sentence, and feel the come hit my stomach. I don't stop at that, though, and see his face as I move over to my own cock and begin to finish myself off. I don't even try to go slowly, I don't want to. I close my eyes, hypocritically, and think of Simon Snow, who is still below me, and the touch of his hand on my shoulder, his magic pouring into me, and readying myself for the first punch after insulting his little sidekick, Bunce. I think of his fist lowering from the air and his pretty lips abruptly crashing into mine. Finally, I think of the feeling like I could go up in flames at any moment, wondering if this was how Simon Snow would end me.

I wake up, breathing heavily into my covered mouth. I look down to find my other hand wrapped around me and come all over on my pajama pants. I knew it couldn't have happened, that it never would. I turn over to Simon, asleep on his own bed, and completely oblivious to what had just happened right next to him. Oblivious to everything.

**Author's Note:**

> :~)
> 
> tumblr: bazgrimm


End file.
